SHOUT me a beer. Good on ya, mate.

Scattershooting

Scattershooting while wondering whatever happened to the Dallas Cowboys.

Sigh.

The highlight of my week was reading an old Tom Clancy book, Clear and Present Danger, and learning what Charlie Foxtrot means in military slang. Because that about sums things up, here lately.

Another highlight was that the thieves who did the Halloween smash-and-grab on junior’s car only took his bag (and yes, it was in plain sight, thanks for asking), but not his keyboard. So there’s that.

No, in truth, the highlight of the week was listening again to Junior’s latest CD, Here for You. He produced the CD, which is a fund-raising venture for Catholic Discipleship College and which has three of his own originals on it.

All of you people who just made up Catholic birth control jokes, report for detention. Sit thee next to the boy with the pointy cap on his head, backwards. The one wearing the No. 9 Cowboys jersey.

Sigh.

Another minor highlight of the week was discovering that the Moosedawg feels WAY better when you give him a beer.

Look, it was junior’s birthday, and someone opened a beer and then didn’t drink it. So what was I supposed to do?

Besides, the Moosedawg needed something to wash down the leftover burritos. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. So what if he farted like a pack mule? Whoa.

Sadly, this just in. Bob Barry, Sr., the voice of the Oklahoma Sooners for so many years, and father of a classmate, died today at age 80. By all accounts, he was a good man. You can bet heaven is now booming with calls of “Touchdown Oklahoma!”

R.I.P., Mr. Barry. And sorry about the wine incident that night about 38 years ago.

And thinking of football… We have one final thought for Cowboys Owner and GM Jerruh Jones:

Get a rope.

P.S. If we went back to the little stadium in Irving, could the Cowboys start winning again?